When Worlds Collide
by BinkyTwinky
Summary: Fuuma is a hunter sent on a mission to collect a boy, but upon finding him, Fuuma gets caught between a rock and a hard place. Falling in love with a vampire is definitely bad for your health.


**AN: What's up y'all? It's been a while for me, and I'm sure I have some half finished stories out there, but since I've come back into the fandom, I've fallen in love with TRC!Kamui and have to write him some smut. Smutty smut smut for my little vamp.**

**Don't ask me why I haven't done this sooner.**

This takes place in an alternate-verse, so don't get mad at me for little details. It's a place like Tokyo, but different, but the same. Ah, creative license makes me a happy girl.

_**Chapter One: The Hunted**_

"I want him."

A seedy smile spread across the nobleman's face. He laced his elongated bony fingers together in front of him; looking expectantly at the man standing at the foot of the dais. He studied the man's amber eyes as they flit across the paper held in his elegant hands. One squared shoulder rose in a dismissive manner. The nobleman sat forward expectantly. This man was his only hope. His collection would be closer to complete with the addition of the boy. This hunter was his key.

Fuuma looked up, a tired, bored expression floating on his handsome features. The nobleman tensed. The hunter shrugged.

"What's in it for me?"

His heavy boots clunked along the sidewalk, his eyes focused loosely on the sky. Clouds were moving in.

"Shit," he mumbled, thinking of the hell it would be maneuvering around the city on his motorcycle if it started to rain. He came upon his bike, settled his helmet over his spiked up hair, mounted, and revved the engine. His mind wandered to the picture he was given. His new target. Find a kid in this city? Hmph, not likely. Fuuma had found plenty of things for plenty of people, and not a single one had yet asked for him to find a person.

This kid, he'd never seen a person like him. And he'd only seen a picture. At least he would be easy to find. No one else could look like him. A mop of black, unruly hair sat atop a thin, soft face ending in a point of a chin. A small, straight nose and small, pouted mouth fit perfectly together on the lower half of the boys face. Large, almost huge, iridescent violet eyes sat slightly slanted above his soft looking cheeks.

I guess if you wanted a person, he'd be a good choice. Fuuma thought with a smile as he slowed for a red light.

The skies were dark, broiling with clouds come from seemingly nowhere. Pregnant with rain, threatening to burst and engulf the city in its slickness. One drop and then another. People hurried silently through the streets, umbrellas aloft, doing little to keep the spat of water away. Buildings of glass and stone jutted awkwardly from the earth; now wet and slick and shiny. This usually colorful and bustling downtown now dawned the look of apocalyptic grandeur.

He regarded the scene with an enlightened boredom. They moved past him with the speed and untidiness of bumblebees. Indeed even the small clips of phrases seemed like so much buzzing in his preternatural ears. Stock still he stood, leaning gracefully against a light post. Somewhere in this city his twin was waiting. Patiently, he knew. But with all the recent happenings surrounding them he needed space. It seemed more often then not, he needed space. Guilt seized his mind, remembering the words of the witch that set them on this never ending journey. He loved Subaru dearly, but the sight of him now brought nothing but the pain of what that man had done to him. He simply couldn't stand it.

Violet eyes closed softly against the rain as thoughts of their past came flooding into his mind. The sounds around him slowly faded, soon completely ceasing to exist. He felt the concrete beneath his feet fade, and soon too the small drops of cold rain were gone. He had spent much of his long life in this state, a slight meditation, an engulfing dream that kept reality at bay. His corporeal body slumped to the ground, his head leaning onto his right shoulder as paralysis took over.

Escape. That was what he needed. It was what he always needed.

The bike revved, the light turned green. Before Fuuma could make it through the intersection, he saw a crowd gathering up the street. With the intent to ignore humanity on his search for this kid, he moved past. As he slowed for the vehicle in front of him, his head turned to scan the crowd. A businessman stepped to the side, and his amber eyes widened at the sight.

Life couldn't be this easy.

He jerked the bike to the gutter, narrowly missing being smashed by a bus. His boot clopped the ground as he hopped to the pavement. Stepping up smoothly to a woman chatting on her phone about this mysterious kid they'd found on the sidewalk, he set his hand on her shoulder. She looked up shocked and ready to berate him on the interruption. At the sight of his glinting eyes, slightly hidden behind his soft, long bangs; she took a self conscious step back. He smiled a stepped forward and around her.

The clatter of worry came to a cacophony around him as he stepped up to his target. The crowd noticed this tall, dark figure and as if on cue, fell silent; watching.

Fuuma knelt next to the boy and felt for a pulse. A soft thumping came from his wrist, slow but steady. He was alive. His large hands slipped under the boys' petite frame and easily lifted him.

The quiet murmurs of the crowd exploded in his ears as he stood, holding the boy like a bride being carried over her wedded threshold. He smiled in his mind and walked back to his bike. He sat, draping the kid over his lap, and revved the engine. No flutter of eyelids; the kid was still passed out cold. Fuuma decided taking him back to his apartment would be for the best. There was no telling what kind of reaction he would get from the nobleman if there was something wrong with this boy. He snaked his way through the grid of downtown, his reflection shimmering in the glass of shop windows. He edged the bike left, crossing traffic and nosing into an underground parking lot, and stopped in a small space.

The boy's body was easily lifted and brought into the elevator. Fuuma smiled warmly at the people he passed, ignoring their inquiries about the unconscious boy in his arms. He deftly set his charge on one arm, quickly producing his keys and unlocking the door. The grey walls of the living room greeted him as he chucked his keys onto the table. The place was relatively empty, but an unfortunate necessity in this city. He moved past the small faded couch toward the hallway and to a small, mostly unused bedroom. Fuuma knelt and set the boy's small frame on the mattress.

"Now what?" He sighed and watched the teen sleep. Come to think of it, who could sleep through a motorcycle ride, let alone through being lifted up off the street by a stranger? Fuuma's eyes narrowed; his focus moving off the boy and into his own thoughts.

He didn't notice as the boy's body shifted on the bed. He was still wrapped up in his thoughts when a small, cold hand slid around his neck. As it squeezed, Fuuma became increasingly aware of his situation, and turned to come face to face with a golden eyed boy; hand clamped roughly around his neck.

**OMG Guys, what's gonna happen next? I dunno, you got to read and review. Well, I do know what's going to happen next…but if you want to know TOO, you've got to R&R please.**

**Much love!**


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